Winter Solstice
by Claudia3
Summary: Christmas time brings bittersweet memories back, so Severus leaves the castle for a walk in the snow.


Disclaimer: Everything HP, except characters of my creation, is copyrighted by J K Rowling and Warner Bros.  
  
Author's Notes: This is my first Snape story ever. I can't help wondering about his character, particularly since Alan Rickman portrayed him so brilliantly. This story is set during the Christmas holidays of "HP and the Prisoner of Azkaban".  
  
For Tina, who is just as mad about Snape and AR as I am - it's so wonderful to share this with you!  
  
Rated: PG  
  
Winter Solstice  
  
by Claudia  
  
howea@t-online.de  
  
Severus Snape stepped out into the cold, protected by an extra warm cloak, a thick woollen scarf and two pairs of gloves. The cold air was crisp and clear, almost painful in his lungs as it let the cold creep in through his nose. For a moment he watched the frozen bluish-white world around him through the clouds of his breath. He could make out the colourful scarves and caps which Professor Sprout had wrestled on the Whomping Willow - that for once had let the witch approach her for fear of losing her branches to the cruel cold. Likewise, Hagrid had bewitched the lake in a way that - although the mirror of its surface had turned solid - the cold did not endanger its resident, the giant squid.  
  
The Potions Master allowed the ghost of a smile flit over his pallid features. He looked up at the overcast sky and wondered when the snow would begin to fall. The scent of snow had been in the air since earlier that morning, and now night was falling. It was the day of winter solstice. The students had gone home for the festive season, only a few of them were still in the castle.  
  
That was why he needed to get away. The anticipation, the festive mood, the very love even the ghosts radiated were close to overwhelming him. Decorations and trees were put up everywhere around the castle, culinary scents were wafting through the carolled halls and corridors. This morning he had woken soaked in sweat, although the fire in his bedchamber had gone out long before dawn, and the cold had been seeping in through the stone walls. How could he ever forget this anniversary?  
  
The reply was simple: never.  
  
Severus had excused himself after lunch, had declined his friend Dumbledore a game of wizard chess. There was something he had to do, as always on the day of winter solstice.  
  
The crusted-over snow was crunching under his weight as he went towards Hogsmeade. It was the only sound to be heard, and when he reached the gates, heavy flakes started to fall and settled lazily on the already frozen world, covering the old, harsh snow with a softer, glittering layer of white nothingness. Soon, the snow settled on the Professor too, the silver mixing with his raven hair. There was nothing like a walk in the falling snow, it was the only way he allowed for peace and quiet to touch his soul. It was even as good as creating potions; it was different, though, because it was being done for him, not by him.  
  
Severus didn't follow the road to the village, though, but stepped into a little wood off the road. There was a hidden path through it that he followed. Even snow wouldn't conceal it from him, he would always find his way to the place where he used to be happy.  
  
By the time he reached this special place, the snow was falling heavier, and the quiet settled like a cold blanket on his tiny world. When he stepped out of the dark of the trees into the clearing, it was as though he entered another world. Not a soul beside him knew this place. He stood, breathing hard, watching his breath mist the air around him. Snowflakes were settling even in his dark lashes now, and he held out his hands palm- up to catch some of the tiny crystals. They melted away quickly, despite two layers of wool.  
  
Again, he smiled.  
  
Severus inhaled deeply, closed his eyes, allowed his breathing to calm down. The heaviness of his feet and legs was delicious, having trudged through deep snow.  
  
It was getting dark quickly now, but he knew this spot so well he didn't need his wandlight.  
  
He went to the centre of the clearing and lay down, and he even made a snow angel. Icy dampness seeped through the heavy fabric of his cloak, but it was all right. All he wanted was to be where he had been happiest.  
  
The place where Nora's spirit was still present, more so than she could have been as a ghost. Sometimes, when he opened himself far enough, he could even feel a bit of the spirit growing within Nora. But it would take long for him to calm down well enough for this.  
  
Snowflakes melted on his face, and he felt the freezing wetness tighten over his skin as he lay motionless, staring into the falling snow, letting his senses drift.  
  
I am here, Nora, he thought.  
  
"I am here, Nora," he whispered.  
  
Severus felt the gold ring he wore on a simple chain around his neck against the skin of his chest as it slipped around his neck and settled somewhere on his shoulder. A ring he never wore on his finger. He had always worn it like this, for almost fourteen years.  
  
A lump rose in his throat.  
  
"I miss you, Nora."  
  
Their child would be thirteen now, of the same age as The Boy Who Lived. Maybe he would have had a sister or brother or two. If it hadn't been for You Know Who. Nora would still be beautiful, her chestnut hair still silky and luxuriant to his touch, and her green eyes with the golden specks would still allow him into her soul . and her lips . More times than not Severus missed his wife so much it hurt.  
  
However, he had given up on shedding tears long ago. He lay still. It was all his fault. He ought to have died alongside his beloved, or at least he should have done something. Nora had tried to warn her friend Lily, but it was too late when he realised what she was up to. Somehow, the Dark Lord must have known about Nora's plan. She never returned to Severus.  
  
It was all his fault.  
  
He never, never should have involved her this much in his life. It had been difficult enough for him to be convincing in the role of a Death Eater, and there had simply been no line for him to draw. A point came when he couldn't shut her out anymore. He never should have allowed for that to happen.  
  
Fourteen years ago today he had married Nora, a former Ravenclaw. He had known then, that his work was going to be very dangerous, but he had had to do something against the Dark Lord. Had he known, however, that his family was going to be in danger because of his work as a spy, he would never have allowed Nora to get as close to him. She was his Achilles heel, and He Who Must No Be Named would have been a fool hadn't he taken advantage of that.  
  
Severus shouldn't have married her until a year later.  
  
Snow had settled all over him now, and there was hardly any black of his cloak showing underneath the icy sheet of snow. The cold was seeping into his body more and more. There was no point in getting ill, so he rose and dusted himself off. It was still snowing and night had settled over the world for good. It was pitch black, so Severus decided that after all, he could do with a wandlight.  
  
"I love you, Nora. I always will." His voice rumbled softly through the quiet, his words clipped and sharp like icicles, yet full of warmth and love. He had dreamed of her that night, and the memory of their passion still warmed him. Sometimes Nora was elusive to his memory, only to be very present in dreams. It was better this way.  
  
When he stepped into the Entrance Hall, thoroughly frozen and exhausted, he welcomed the warmth the place radiated. This was where he belonged, even though most of the people wished him to another place.  
  
"Ah, Severus."  
  
The Potions Master was startled by Dumbledore's voice. "Headmaster," he managed, brushing some snowflakes off his iced scarf - a treasured present of Nora's.  
  
"You are quite a sight. Are you all right?"  
  
Indeed, Severus looked even paler than usual, even under the blush of exertion, and his lips were blue.  
  
"Yes, thank you."  
  
"Ah," Dumbledore made, as if suddenly realising. He clapped the younger man's shoulder compassionately. "I'll see you for tea, then?"  
  
Several minutes later, Severus walked into the Great Hall, remembering only just to suppress a smile. There was only one table now that the students were on holiday. The Boy Who Lived was there, of course, and his two friends. And as he settled in his seat at the table, he couldn't help glancing in his direction, wondering, What would my child look like?  
  
End 


End file.
